F>i=5ICE 15 CENTS 




Successful Rural Plays 

A Strong List From Which to Select Your 
Next Play 

FARM FOLKS. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
Lewis Tubbs. For five male and six female characters. Time 
of playing, two hours and a half. One simple exterior, two 
easy interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Flora Goodwin, a 
farmer's daughter, is engaged to Philip Burleigh, a young New 
Yorker. Philip's mother wants him to- marry a society woman, 
and by falsehoods makes Flora believe Philip does not love her. 
Dave Weston, who wants Flora himself, helps the deception by 
intercepting a letter from Philip to Flora. She agrees to marry 
Dave, but on the eve of their marriage Dave confesses, Philip 
learns the truth, and he and Flora are reunited. It is a simple 
plot, but full of speeches and situations that sway an audience 
alternately to tears and to laughter. Price, 25 cents. 

HOME TIES. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
Lewis Tubbs. Characters, four male, five female. Plays two 
hours and a half. Scene, a simple interior — same for all four 
acts. Costumes, modern. One of the strongest plays Mr. Tubbs 
has written. Martin Winn's wife left him when his daughter 
Ruth was a baby. Harold Vincent, the nephew and adopted son 
of the man who has wronged Martin, makes love to Ruth Winn. 
She is also loved by Len Everett, a prosperous young farmer. 
When Martin discovers who Harold is, he orders him to leave 
Ruth. Harold, who does not love sincerely, yields. Ruth dis- 
covers she loves Len, but thinks she has lost him also. Then 
he comes back, and Ruth finds her happiness. Price 25 cents. 

THE OLD NEW HAMPSHIRE HOME. A New 

England \Drama in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For seven 
males and four females. Time, two hours and a half. Costumes, 
-modern. A play with a strong heart interest and pathos, yet rich 
in humor. Easy to act and very effective. A rural drama of 
the "Old Homstead" and "Way Down East" type. Two ex- 
terior scenes, one interior, all easy to set. Full of strong sit- 
uations and delightfully humorous passages. The kind of a play 
ever}''body understands and likes. Price, 25 cents. 

THE OLD DAIRY HOMESTEAD. A Rural Comedy 
in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For five males and four 
females. Time, two hours. Rural costumes. Scenes rural ex- 
terior and interior. An adventurer obtains a large sum of money 
from a farm house through the intimidation of the farmer's 
niece, whose husband he claims to be. Her escapes from the 
wiles of the villain and his female accomplice are both starting 
and novel. Price, 15 cents. 

A WHITE MOUNTAIN BOY. A Strong Melodrama in 
Five Acts, by Charles Townsend. For seven" males and four 
females, and three supers. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. 
One exterior, three interiors. Costumes easy. The hero, a 
country lad, twice saves the life of a banker's daughter, which 
results in their betrothal. A scoundrelly clerk has the banker 
in his power, but the White Mountain boy finds a way to check- 
mate his schemes, saves the banker, and wins the girl. Price 
15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



Behind the Lines 



A War Comedy in One Act 



By 

HELEN BAGG 

Author of "First Aid," "Why Not Jim? n 
"Untangling Tony" "Whiskers" etc. 




PHILADELPHIA 
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

i 9 i 8 



^ 






Copyright 191 8 by The Penn Publishing Company 



*)JI.D 5097u 

Behind the Lines 



Irv* \ 






Behind the Lines 



Mrs. Harrison 



Sue Harrison 



Molly Tracy - - 
Mrs. Merrifield ■ 
Mrs. Fairfax 
Mrs. Julia Fenton 
Mrs. Oliver 
Petty Oliver 
Jessie - - - - 



CHARACTERS 

- chairman of the Red Cross Com- 
mittee of the Berkeley Woman's 
Club, 
her daughter, secretary of the com- 
mittee. 
- her niece, an emergency driver. 
- - vice-chairman of the committee . 



Georgiana - 



workers on the committee. 

the elevator girl at the Berkeley 

Arms Hotel, 
the bell girl at the Berkeley Arms 

Hotel, late of New York. 



Time. — The summer of 1 918. One morning. 

Place. — Berkeley. A small town near New York. 

Scene. — A room in the Berkeley Arms Hotel which is 
being used as a workroom by the Red Cross Committee of 
the local Woman's Club. 



STORY OF THE PLAY 

The Red Cross Committee of Berkeley has chosen 
Lieutenant Tom French, the famous American aviator 
or " ace," as their " godson." But Sue Harrison and 
Molly Tracy think a Berkeley boy should have been 
chosen, and Sue as secretary has secretly sent all the 
letters and presents to Jack Spalding, whom she loves. 
The chairman of the committee is about to meet 
Lieutenant French, and the girls are scared. The 
committee hears that Jack has been captured, and are 
sorry they had not chosen him for godson. Then 
Tom telephones to Molly — he and Jack are together 
in New York. It all comes out. Molly is Tom's bride. 
Sue and Jack are engaged. Jack is the real godson. 
Every one is satisfied and happy. 



COSTUMES, ETC. 

Mrs. Harrison. About fifty. A portly, pompous 
woman, always in a hurry to get to a committee meet- 
ing somewhere. Wears street costume, hat, wrap, 
gloves, veil. 

Sue Harrison. About twenty-three. She has a 
rather independent manner. She is supposed to live 
in the hotel, and at first entrance wears Red Cross 
uniform, white gown, cap, etc. At later entrance 
wears street costume, hat, wrap, etc. 

Molly Tracy. About twenty. A pretty girl, in 
uniform of an emergency driver — khaki -colored 
dress, with pleated waist, cap to match of the " over- 
seas " pattern, " Sam Brown belt " around waist and 
crossing from right shoulder to hip, etc. 

Mrs. Merrifield. About fifty. Large, florid, 
baby- faced. Sentimental, not to say mushy. Is sup- 



PROPERTIES 5 

posed to live in the hotel, and wears Red Cross 
uniform. 

Mrs. Fairfax. About thirty-five. A pleasant- 
looking matron, quietly dressed in street costume. 

Mrs. Julia Fenton. About twenty-five. A very 
charming young matron, very recently a bride. She 
is fashionably dressed in street costume, and is lively 
and " up-to-date." 

Mrs. Oliver. About sixty. Sharp features and a 
still sharper tongue. Street dress. 

Petty Oliver. Sixteen or seventeen. Rather of 
the doll-baby type, dressed in the extreme of style as 
to length of skirt, height of heels, size of hat, etc. 
Street dress. 

Jessie. About twenty. Wears a plain dark dress, 
with buttons and braid, and if desired a uniform cap 
with the word " Elevator." 

Georgiana. About thirteen. All legs and pig- 
tails. She is dressed as nearly like a bell-boy as any 
one can be without. wearing trousers. 



PROPERTIES 



For general properties see description under Scene 
Plot, including telephone, Red Cross supplies, sewing 
machine, etc. Music of band, heard off stage, re- 
quires a phonograph. 

Mrs. Harrison: Wrapped framed picture of a 
young officer. Large hand-bag. Watch. Letter. 
Newspaper. Eye-glasses. 

Jessie: Dust-cloth. Hammer. Nails. Ring. 

Molly : Partly finished sock. 

Georgiana : Framed picture, wrapped. 

Petty : Pocket mirror. Bell button on wall. Pillow. 

Mrs. Oliver : Two hanks of " baby blue " yarn. 

Mrs. Fairfax : Pajamas. 



1 



SCENE PLOT 




Scene. — A large room, evidently one of the hotel 
parlors, furnished as a Red Cross workroom. Doors 
at r. and l. Windows up r. and l. At c. shelves 
piled high with garments, knitted goods, and bundles. 
On either side of the room is a long work table 
covered with sheeting that hangs down to floor and 
piled with the implements of Red Cross work, gauze, 
flat-irons, silver knives, a knitting machine, yarn, 
flannel, measures, etc. Chairs up l., down l., and 
along tables. Small table with telephone up r. Sew- 
ing machine up l. On the walls, printed notices read- 
ing thus : " Do not speak to the workers ; this work 
demands accuracy." " Please do not waste the time 
of the Committee explaining why you do not care to 
make the Kitchener toe." " The work behind the 
lines must be as perfect as that done at the Front." 
" No, they will not shrink up to the proper size when 
washed!" "Why insist that a sweater measures 
twenty-three inches when the yardstick contradicts 
you?" 

Note: The windows are not essential to the plot. 
This play may easily be given on a platform without 
se1 scenery, 

6 



Behind the Lines 



SCENE. — A parlor in a hotel. Window or windows 
in flat at back. Doors r. and l. Shelves up c. piled 
with Red Cross supplies, packages, etc. Small table 
with telephone up r. Sewing machine up l. Long 
tables covered with white cloth and piled with Red 
Cross work at r. and l. Chairs along these tables. 
Chair down l. and another up l. 

{When the curtain rises, Jessie and Georgiana are 
hanging out of the two windows, watching a parade 
of newly drafted men. The music of a band can be 
heard from outside, also the sound of cheering.) 

Jessie {excitedly). There he is — the third from the 
end — with the red hair! Ain't he grand? Hurrah! 

Georgiana. That bow-legged guy ? I thought you 
said he was good lookin' ! 

Jessie. Lots you know about looks — at your age. 
{Leaning out and waving frantically.) Hullo, Jim! 
{To Georgiana.) He seen me, kiddo, he seen me! 

Georgiana {absorbed). Ain't them Boy Scouts 
grand ? 

Jessie. There, he's gone! {Bursting into tears.) 
He's g-gone ! Ooooh ! 

Georgiana {sympathetic but shocked). Aw, quit 
it, Jessie. An' you a elevator girl, too ! Anybody'd 
think they was on their way to the trenches instead 
of just goin' into camp. Oh, do dry up ! 

Jessie. I can't help it — they look so nice, and 
they'll be going away so soon. 

Georgiana, Sure they will, the lucky stiffs! (ice, 

7 



8 BEHIND THE LINES 

I wisht I was a feller! I bet I could lick a Hun just 
as well as that bow-legged beau of yours. 

Jessie. You could not. He's the swellest scrapper 
in this town, and you know it. You'd ought to see 
his muscles, why 

Georgiana. It ain't brute force that's goin' to win 
this war, it's brains. 

Jessie. Oh, is that so? Well, ain't we lucky to 
have you on our side ! 

Georgiana. You'd be surprised, wouldn't you, to 
hear that I was in the Secret Service ? 

Jessie. Well, rather. 

Georgiana. I am, though. 

Jessie. Wake up, kiddo; ain't you sleeping kind 
of late this morning? 

Georgiana (stamping her foot). I am, I tell you! 
A Boy Scout and me are in it together. We listen 
around for spies, and when we catch one we're goin' 
to turn him over to the Fed'ral authorities. 

Jessie. Well, I never ! 

Georgiana. We ain't caught none yet, but maybe 
we will before the summer's done. Hotels is awful 
good places to catch spies. 

Jessie. Oh ? 

Georgiana. Yep. I'm listenin' every chanst I get. 
Last night I laid on my stummick under the lounge in 
the smoking-room f er over an hour. 

Jessie (severely). You keep that up and you'll 
lose your job — that's about what you'll catch. (Un- 
bending suddenly.) Say, what do they do in the 
smoking-room ? 

Georgiana (contemptuously) . Oh, same as the 
women — jes' gab! 

(Enter Mrs. Harrison, hurriedly, l. She carries a 
square package, loosely wrapped, and a large and 
important looking hand-bag.) 

Mrs. Harrison. Well, where arc the workers, I 
should like to know? 

Jessie (running down r. and instantly becoming 



BEHIND THE LINES 9 

very busy dusting a table). Oh, good-morning, Mrs. 
Harrison ! I guess they just stepped out to watch the 
parade. 

(Georgian a follows Jessie.) 

Mrs. Harrison {disgustedly, as she comes down 
l.). To watch the parade — and all this work to be 
done ! Hasn't my daughter been here ? 

Jessie. Yes, ma'am, Miss Sue was here all morn- 
ing. {Aside to Georgiana with a grimace.) Cat! 

Mrs. Harrison {examining some unfinished work 
on table l.). I said when they made me chairman of 
this committee that a hotel was no place for a work- 
room; altogether too many opportunities for distrac- 
tion. I suppose dozens of women have been in here 
to ask for wool and found no one to attend to them ! 

Georgiana (r., promptly). No, they ain't, because 
Miss Sue give me ten cents to call her if any one come, 
and nobody ain't, except Mr. Pickering from the Old 
Gents' Home, and he brung back two hanks because 
they didn't match the sweater he's knittin'. 

Mrs. Harrison. Dear, dear, organizing things is 
such a responsibility! You simply get them started 
for somebody else to run into the ground. But I did 
think I could trust Susy ! 

Jessie {dusting furiously, while Georgiana stands 
staring as only a child of thirteen can stare). Yes, 
ma'am. 

Mrs. Harrison {unwrapping her bundle). Mr. 
Pickering is one of our most faithful knitters — the 
idea of giving him yarn that didn't match ! Well, I 
can't stay. I'm due at an Infant Welfare Com- 
mittee — {looks at watch) ten minutes ago. {She 
takes from the wrappings a large newspaper print of a 
very handsome young man in the uniform of an air- 
man.) I wish you would hang this somewhere for 
me, Jessie ; I simply haven't time. 

{All three move to c.) 

Jessie {taking it with an awed look) . Oh! 



10 BEHIND THE LINES 

Mrs. Harrison (forgetting her haste). That is 
Lieutenant Thomas French, the celebrated aviator. 

Georgian a (with a gasp). Gosh! The Ace? 

Mrs. Harrison (with a glance of reproof). Yes. 
I cut it out of a magazine. Our committee has 
adopted him as a godson during the war. 

Jessie. Is he the one that killed seven German air- 
planes, ma'am? 

Mrs. Harrison. Eight, my dear, eight. His 
mother is an old friend of mine. 

Georgiana (enviously). Some skirts has all the 
luck! I wisht I was his mother! 

Mrs. Harrison. Dear me, child ! Well, next time 
we send him a package, we'll let you put in one of 
those wash- cloths that you've been knitting, and then 
you'll be his godmother, just like the rest of us. 

Georgiana (completely awed). Gee! Me send 
him a wash-rag — gee! 

Mrs. Harrison (moving toward the door l.). Tell 
my daughter that I will be back just as soon as I can 
get away from the Infant Welfares. 

Jessie. ) ^ , 

Georgiana. J Yes > "* am ' 

Mrs. Harrison (going out at l.). I am so pro- 
voked about Mr. Pickering! 

(Exit. Jessie busies herself about hanging the 
picture up r. She finds a hammer and some tacks 
or nails and climbs on a chair. Georgiana seats 
herself on the window sill up r. and watches Jessie 
work.) 

Georgiana. Say, is that straight — about him bein* 
their godson? 

Jessie. Sure it is. I was here the day they talked 
about doing it. Some of the ladies wanted to pick one 
of the town boys, but the rest were bound to have this 
one because he was a New York Ace. I s'pose a 
private wasn't good enough for 'em. 

Georgiana. Ain't that just like these swell dames! 
Say, here comes Miss Tracy, an' she's got a uniform 
on ! [She leans out of the window.) 



BEHIND THE LINES II 

Jessie. She's an emergency driver. I think the 
uniform's grand. (She pounds her finger as she 
drives the last nail. ) Ouch ! 

Georgian a (leaving the window and crossing to 
door at r.). Oh, I don't know — I think a bell girl's 
uniform is cheeker. (Yawning and stretching.) I 
guess I better get on the job for a while. 

(Exit at r. Jessie jumps down and stands surveying 
her work. Molly Tracy enters at l. She stands 
a moment, looking at the picture with a very tender 
look in her eyes, having given just a faint exclama- 
tion as she entered and saw it. Jessie turns and 
sees her.) 

Jessie. I've just put him up. Don't he look cozy 
and nice? 

Molly (with a little sigh). He does. (With an 
effort.) Why, where are all the workers? 

Jessie. Out rubberin' at the parade. Say, Miss 
Molly, I seen you drivin' your car in it. 

Molly (sitting r. and taking a sock from her bag). 
Yes? 

Jessie. You done fine. 

Molly. Thank you. I don't believe it's as hard as 
running an elevator. 

Jessie. Oh, that's nothin' — any fool can run an 
elevator ! 

Molly (meditatively) . I wonder if lots of women 
aren't saying that about the men's work they've 
taken up ? 

Jessie (easily).. Land, yes. Ain't we always 
known we could do anything they could if we had to? 
Say, my friend was in the parade, too. 

Molly. Was he ? 

(Goes to table I* and looks at some of the work there.) 

Jessie (r., blushingly). He has red hair — awful 
distinguished looking — you prob'ly noticed him? 
He's n cook. 



12 BEHIND THE LINES 

Molly (heartily). Why, Jessie, he's very im- 
portant, isn't he ? 

Jessie. Sure he is. It's all right to have generals 
an' majors fluffin' round, lookin' important, but be- 
lieve me, it's the cooks that count. 

Molly (visibly impressed). Of course it is. How 
splendid to be engaged to one ! 

Jessie (shyly, twisting her ring around con- 
sciously). Well, he says it is ; I ain't been long enough 
to know. We only fixed it up last night; I couldn't 
make up my mind. 

Molly (gazing dreamily at the aviator's picture). 
A uniform is a great help in making up one's mind, 
isn't it? 

Jessie. I should say. Of course I meant to take 
him some time, but I wasn't goin' to be in a hurry; 
but they say them French girls are awful slick — and 
you know yourself how popular a cook is ! 

Molly. Yes, indeed. Oh, dear, I don't see what 
is the matter with this sock ! It has the oddest look. 

Jessie (going l. to her). Maybe I can tell. 

(Examines it.) 

Molly. Have I done anything very dreadful ? 
Jessie. No, indeed; just put the heel on the front 
needle, that's all. 

(/inter Sue Harrison, r., as they are bending over 
the sock. She has evidently been watching the 
parade from another room of the hotel, as she has 
no wraps with her.) 

Sue (crossing l.). Hullo, Molly, in trouble again? 

Molly. As usual. 

Jl 5SI1 . Shall I rip it for you? 

molly (taking the sock from Jessie). No, in- 
1. Ripping is the one thing that I can do really 
wcll, and I don't intend to hand it over to anybody 
eh i 

fosses r. Sri- moves around the room, 
putting things in readiness for the zvorkers on their 
return. Suddenly she sees' the aviator's picture.) 






BEHIND THE LINES Ij 

Sue (r. a). Good gracious, who hung that up? 

Jessie (at door r.). I did. Your Ma told me to. 
She got him out of a magazine. (She exits r.) 

Sue (crossing l. to Molly). Molly, that young 
wretch up there is going to ruin everything! 

Molly (alarmed). Oh, no, he isn't! Only — I do 
wish you had let me write and tell him everything. I 
could have made him promise 

Sue. Promise? What's a promise to a young 
scamp like that ? Look at his eye ! 

Molly. I think it's a very nice eye. 

Sue (severely). Nice, but treacherous. The sort 
of man you could trust with anything in the world but 
a joke. 

Molly. I don't consider it a joke. 

Sue. Neither do I, but he would. I know that 
kind. 

Molly (rising, a little irritated). Even so, I don't 
see what harm his picture is going to do. 

Sue. Well, you will in a minute. Mother had a 
letter this morning from Jack, saying that he was 
sending one. (Crosses r., and is busy at table R.) 

Molly (l.). Oh, dear, why did we do it? I feel 
so horrid about it all the time — just like a German spy ! 

(Enter Georgiana, r., just in time to hear this speech. 
She has come in to deliver a package which she 
carries under one arm, but on hearing this very 
suspicious speech she at once dives under the table 
at r. and, hidden by some overhanging flannel or 
gauze which is on the table, listens happily. ) 

Sue. So do I, but I'd never dare own up now. 
Mother'd scalp me. Besides, it was the right thing 
to do. It's a perfect shame 

(Enter Mrs. Julia Fenton, l.) 

Julia. What's a perfect shame? Wool given out 
again ? 

Sue. Hello, Julia! No, the wool's all right, 
but 



14 BEHIND THE LINES 

(She pauses and looks at Molly. Julia throws off 
her wrap, up l. ) 

Julia. Well, what's wrong then? (She sees the 
picture.) Oh my, who's that? 

Molly (l.). That is Lieutenant Thomas French. 

Sue (r., with a grimace). Our godson. 

Julia (c, turning away). Take him away. He's 
too depressing a sight for a married woman. 

Molly (suddenly). Susy, let's tell her. I believe 
she'd understand. 

Sue. Maybe. There always was something sort 
of human about Julia. 

Molly. She was the worst flirt in five states, if 
that's what you mean. 

Julia (hastily). Of course I'll understand. Is it 
about the godson ? 

(Julia, Sue, Molly come down c.) 

Sue. It is. You remember, Julia, when the com- 
mittee decided to adopt a godson to send letters and 
packages to, some of us felt he should be one of the 
town boys and not a stranger ? 

Julia. Yes. I was one of them. 

Molly. Susy, don't you think she ought to be 
sworn to secrecy before you tell her anything more? 

Sue. Julia Fenton, if you dare to tell, we'll 

Molly. We'll tell John just how near you came to 
jilting him for Fred Armstrong the summer before 
you were married. 

Julia (quickly). Of course I won't tell. I have 
a sense of honor, even if you girls haven't. 

Sue. Well, we felt, Molly and I, that it wasn't fair 
to send packages and letters to a perfect stranger, 
when we had among our own town boys a young man 
like — like 

Molly. Like Jack Spalding. Jack grew up with 
us 

Julia (r e minis cently). I always liked Jack. He 
was my first beau. 

Sue. We all liked him; and he was the very first 



BEHIND THE LINES 



H 



man to enlist in this town; but just because he is poor 
and hasn't a lot of important relatives, and this Lieu- 
tenant French is rich and a heart smasher 

Molly (l. c). Oh, no, Susy, he isn't a heart 
smasher — I — I know — that is, I feel sure that he 
isn't ! 

Julia (dryly). Well, if he isn't, with those eyes, 
he is sailing under false colors. 

Sue (r. a). But, listen, Julia; this is what we did, 
and it's awful ! You know I'm secretary of this com- 
mittee, so I had to write the letters and mail the pack- 
ages. Well, I've sent them all to Jack Spalding ! 

Julia (horrified). But, Sue, that's perjury, isn't 



it? 

Sue (recklessly). 
did it. 

Molly. We did 

Sue (seriously). 



I don't know what it is, but I 



it; I helped. 

It wasn't the letters and the 
packages that I wanted Jack to have, it was the en- 
couragement from the women of his town, who had 
always known him. I felt that we owed it to him to 
let him know that we appreciated him and stood be- 
hind him ! Lots of the other women would have felt 
so, too, if it hadn't been for Mother. Mother dis- 
likes Jack dreadfully. 

Molly. No, she doesn't, dear; it's just that she's 
afraid that you don't dislike him enough. 

Sue (rebelliously). Well, I don't. I'm crazy about 
him, and I don't care who knows it. I'd rather marry 
him than a dozen old Aces — so there ! 

Julia (quickly). I get you! 

Sue. And now Mother gets a letter from Jack say- 
ing that he's just sent her a photograph ! 

^ Molly. Which won't agree with this one a little 
bit! (Points to picture up r.) 

Julia. Doesn't Jack know what you've done ? 

Sue. No, and he'd be furious if he did. He al- 
ways signs his letters " Your affectionate godson " 
and I — I manage to lose the envelopes. 

Julia. That's a nice mess, children, and I don't 
see how you're going to get out of it. 



1 6 BEHIND THE LINES 

Molly {savagely). We'll watch our chance and 
suppress that photograph. 

Julia. That's only putting off the evil day. You'll 
have to tell the truth. 

Sue i (h° rr ifi e d)- Julia! 

Julia. It will be unpleasant, of course, the truth 
always is — I despise it myself — but in this case you've 
nothing else left. 

Molly. | al t ' r , 

Sue. \ Oh, Julia! 

Julia. Yes, they'll have to know; but before we 
tell them, we'll boost Mr. Jack Spalding's stock so high 
that they won't feel disappointed at all. 

Sue. But how? 

Julia. Leave it to me. I have a cousin just back 
from the Front, and he's told me the most wonderful 
things that he's seen men do over there; I shall tell 
them to the committee and give Private Jack Spalding 
all the credit. 

Molly. But will they believe? 

Julia. They will if I tell them. (Sweetly.) My 
husband says I'm the most truthful little soul he ever 
knew. (Molly groans.) 

Sue (doubtfully). Yes, of course, but you must 
remember, Julia, that you'll be talking to women — not 
to husbands. 

Julia. My dear, what the late Mr. Barnum said of 
the American public applies to women as well as 
to — husbands. 

(Georgiana, in trying to effect a noiseless escape, 
bumps her head with a loud crack against the top 
of the table.) 

Molly (sharply). What's that? 

Julia. It's somebody under the table! (Georgi- 
ana makes a dive for the door.) You little wretch, 
come back here ! (As Georgiana, badly scared, 
pauses, Sue rushes up r. to her, takes her by the arm 
and brings her down r. c. Georgiana still clutches 



Behind fH£ lines 17 

package.) What do you mean by hiding and listen- 
ing that way? 

Sue. Georgiana, I am surprised ! 

Molly. You bad little girl ! 

Georgiana (defiantly). I ain't a little girl; Fm a 
Secret Service. I have to listen to things. 

Julia. Indeed ? How long have you been here ? 

Georgiana (sniffling). Ever since you come in. 

Molly. Mercy on us ! Look here, if you tell what 
you've heard 

Sue. We'll take that nice buttony uniform away 
from you and 

Julia. Don't tell her that. Tell her what you'll 
do for her if she doesn't tell. I'll buy you all the 
candy you can eat, Georgiana, if you'll be a good girl 
and forget what you heard us say; will you? 

Georgiana. Mebbe. I'll go an' think it over by 
myself. 

(Exit importantly, r.) 

Julia. Now you see what a little tact does? But 
that was a close shave. 

Sue (shivering). Close! 

Molly. I don't believe we can trust her. 

Julia. When people get themselves into such holes 
as you have, they must trust somebody. Do any of 
the committee know him? 

(Pointing to the Lieutenant's picture.) 

Sue. Only Molly. 

Julia (walking meditatively to the window up l.). 
Oh, Molly knows him ! 

Molly (very consciously). Very — very slightly! 

Julia. I see. Well, I should think (Look- 
ing out of the window.) Here's Mrs. Fairfax and 
Mrs. Oliver and Petty Oliver. 

Sue. Oh, let's get to work — we don't want to look 
like conspirators ! 

(She and Molly go to table l. and busy themselves 
feverishly with bandages.) 



]8 BEHIND TH£ LINES 

Julia (coming down a). Petty 's wearing a 
" widow cap " for my brother Sam, and Sam only 
went last week to the training camp ! I suppose they 
think they're engaged. 

Sue (primly). Girls are such idiots! 

(Enter, l., Mrs. Fairfax, Mrs. Oliver and Petty 
Oliver. They all come down r. ) 

Mrs. Oliver. Well, I said to her right then and 
there, " I distinctly stated when I gave you those 
wash-cloths that they were to go to Belgians and to no 
one else ! " Said I, " I consider that the crying needs 
of Belgium should be satisfied before anybody else is 
helped, and that's where I wanted my wash-cloths to 
go." Said I, " And here you go and send everything 
to a clearing house and distribute them indiscrimi- 
nately." Said I, "I'd like to know how the Red 
Cross expects the women of this country to go on 
doing their duty in the face of such gross mismanage- 
ment as that? " 

Sue. Oh, good-morning, Mrs. Oliver ! Mrs. Fair- 
fax — why, here's Petty, too! I do hope you're all 
going to stay and work? 

Mrs. Fairfax (sitting r., and getting immediately 
to work). Yes. I had an hour before the children's 
luncheon, so I thought I'd make a few bandages. 

Petty (up r., taking a glance at herself in her 
pocket mirror). I'm awfully tired of making band- 
ages, but I simply cannot learn to knit. Sam says 
the sweater I made for him is so peek-a-boo that no 
modest man would dare wear it. 

(She picks up two or three pieces of work before she 
makes up her mind what she wants to do. Mrs. 
Oliver crosses down l., seats herself away from 
the table and opens her bag, taking out a couple of 
unwound hanks of baby blue yarn. Julia sits at 
table r. and works.) 

Mrs. Oliver. These young men are getting sadly 



BEHIND THE LINES IQ 

spoiled, I fear. It will take some time to put them 
back in their places again. 

Mrs. Fairfax (sadly). If they'll only come back 
to us safely I don't think we shall mind their being 
spoiled. 

Molly (glancing involuntarily at the picture). 
Yes — oh, yes ! 

Petty (following the glance). Why, who are you 
getting excited over, Molly? Is it the godson? 

Molly (frankly). I'm excited over all of them — 
every single one ! I just love them all. 

Julia (with decision). We have cause to be 
proud of the men from our town. Take Jack Spald- 
ing, for instance 

Mrs. Oliver. Petty, touch the button ; I want that 
bell girl to come and hold this wool for me. 

Petty (rising and touching bell, r.). Yes, Mother, 
dear. 

Molly (jumping up). Let me do it. We oughtn't 
to take Georgiana away from her duties. 

Mrs. Oliver (waving her back). I've never seen 
her doing anything more important than reading movie 
magazines since she's been around here, so I guess it 
won't hurt her to do her bit for the country occa- 
sionally. 

Molly (subsiding). Oh, no, of course not. 

Julia (with determination). Speaking of doing 
one's bit, I had a letter from a cousin of mine, just 
returned from the Front, saying that young Jack 
Spalding had— well — distinguished himself, and 

Mrs. Fairfax (sweetly). That's very nice, isn't 
it? I wonder why Mrs. Merrifield isn't with us this 
morning? She left her pajamas half finished yester- 
day, and they really should go in to-morrow's bundle. 

Mrs. Oliver. I saw her out on the veranda talking 
to that Italian boy who plays the 'cello in the hotel 
orchestra, so I don't think you need expect her for 
some time. 

Sue. She likes to practice her Italian on him when 
she gets a chance. 

Mrs. Oliver. Well, she gets the chance quite often, 



20 BEHIND THE LfNES 

I notice. However, it's none of my business, I sup- 
pose ! 

Mrs. Fairfax. No, it isn't, really, is it? Our 
business is to see how many bandages we can turn out, 
and how well we can do our work behind the lines. 

Petty. Sam says he's afraid the war will be over 
before he gets there, and it provokes him dreadfully 
when he's getting so handy with the bayonet! 

(Mrs. Merrifield's voice is heard off stage at l.) 

Voice (very sugary). Till to-morrow, then, 
naughty boy ! 

Mrs. Oliver. Practicing her Italian ! 

(Enter Mrs. Merrifield, l.) 

Mrs. Merrifield. So sorry to be late, but I was 
detained. Oh, his picture ! 

(Her foot slips on a small rug and she goes down in 
an unhappy heap. All pimp up. The four young 
women run to her. Georgiana enters at r. and 
stands staring. Mrs. Merrifield groans.) 

Sue. Oh, dear Mrs. Merrifield, are you hurt? 
Molly. Did you break anything? 

(Molly and Sue help her up, Julia brings a chair, 
Petty a pillow. They seat her down r.) 

Julia. There ! 

Mrs. Oliver (reseating herself dozvn l.). It's 
those French heels! I've warned you, Cordelia, a 
dozen times 

Mrs. Merrifield. It was not my heels ; it was that 
wretched little rug on this slippery floor ! 

Mrs. Fairfax. Georgiana, take up that rug before 
anything more happens. 

Georgiana. Yes, ma'am. 

(Rolls up rug, takes it out.) 
Mrs. Merrifield. If I could only get my breath! 



BEHIND THE LINES 21 

Mrs. Oliver. You could if you wouldn't wear 
those lace-down-the-f ront corsets. I never believed in 
them. 

Sue (feeling Mrs. Merrifield' s bones in zvhat she 
believes to be a very scientific manner. Molly and 
Petty, r. c, watch, very intently interested). I hope 
nothing's broken, but we'd better make an examina- 
tion. 

Mrs. Merrifield (angrily). No, you won't. You 
shan't practice any of your First Aid lessons on me — 
not while I live and breathe. 

(Reenter Georgiana, who also watches up c.) 

Molly (earnestly). Her ankle looks awfully 
queer and fat to me. Maybe it's out of joint. 

Mrs. Merrifield. It isn't. You keep away from 
my ankle! 

Petty. Let's snap it back again. 

Molly. No, let me do it. 

Mrs. Merrifield (wildly). No! None but an 
experienced hand shall snap my ankles ! 

Sue. I don't believe you're hurt at all. 

Mrs. Merrifield. Well, I hope not. I've no time 
to be hurt, let me tell you. What with surgical dress- 
ings, food conservation classes, canteen work, and my 
French and Italian — I'm taking up both so that I can 
read to the wounded — I simply haven't a moment to 
myself. As I was saying to that poor boy out 
there 

Mrs. Oliver. Yes, we heard you. 

(Sue and Molly return to their work, l. Julia sits 
and works, r. Petty seats herself at table R.) 

Mrs. Merrifield. He's a genius, and so far from 
home! My heart aches for him. I suppose nobody 
understands all that we people of temperament suffer — 
nobody! (She adjusts her cap and goes to zvork.) 

Mrs. Fairfax (picking pajamas from tabic R.). 
Here are your pajamas, dear, that you didn't finish 
yesterday. 



22 BEHIND THE LINES 

Mrs. Merrifield. I don't feel like pajamas to- 
day. I think I'll make bandages. Talking to that 
poor boy has depressed me terribly. 

Mrs. Oliver. Here, Georgiana, sit down and hold 
this yarn for me. I want to cast on this sweater. 

Georgiana (edging away). I ain't got time. I 
got to go and set in the office. 

Julia (apprehensively). Yes, really, Mrs. Oliver, 
the poor child 

Mrs. Oliver. Even a child can do something for 
her country. Come here, you! (Georgiana comes 
down l., takes a chair at end of table and submits to 
having the wool slipped over her wrists.) Keep your 
wrists still, and don't scowl ; it makes you look cross- 
eyed. 

Georgiana. Yes, ma'am. 

Mrs. Fairfax (eyeing the baby blue wool). I 
suppose the sweater is for Petty? 

Mrs. Oliver. No, indeed. It's for the Andrews 
boy next door. He's gone into the aviation. I. 
couldn't get a bit of dark blue in the store, and as I 
had this in the house, I made up my mind to use it. 
Up in the air no one will know what he has on. 

Julia. Speaking of the Andrews boy, I heard yes- 
terday that young Jack Spalding 

Georgiana. Aw, my foot's asleep! 

Mrs. Oliver. Never mind. Keep your wrists 
still. 

Julia. Has done such a brave thing. Just think, 
girls, he went out alone into No Man's Land and 
took four — (she surveys her audience appraisingly) 
no, three Boches, all by himself. 

Petty. Goodness, how reckless! 

Mrs. Merrifield. Well, of course, we can only 
do our best, but I must say that compared with our 
dear godson's eight aeroplanes three Boches sound 
rather tame. 

Sue (l.). Tame! Do you call it tame to live 
night and day in a trench half full of dirty water and 
mud and rats, and to be ready to go over the top any 
minute and be trench-knifed by a horrid brute of a 



BEHIND THE LINES ' 23 

German? I should prefer the air myself; it's clean, 
at any rate. 

Petty (r.). Oh, well, you know, dear, you were 
always rather partial to Jack. 

Mrs. Oliver {down l.). I've often told your 
mother that I considered it providential that some- 
thing came up to remove that young man. 

Mrs. Merrifield {down r.). A handsome fellow 
like that, with no prospects, is a perfect scourge to a 
community. 

Sue {angrily). He has prospects! He 

(She pauses as Molly gives a warning cough. Mrs. 
Harrison enters at l., still in a hurry.) 

Mrs. Harrison. All at work? How splendid! I 
would have been here before, but the Board of the 
Infant Welfare was meeting to-day, and they are so 
long winded — I simply couldn't get away. 

Mrs. Merrifield. One can always manage to do 
one more thing. When I get through my French and 
Italian — I'm taking them so that I can read to the 
wounded — I mean to take up Russian, and then 

Mrs. Oliver. Top off with some Chinese, I sup- 
pose. {To Georgian a.) 

Georgiana {wrinkling up her face). My nose 
itches ! 

Mrs. Oliver. Nonsense! Don't be so frivolous! 

Mrs. Harrison {up c). I was in a rush to get 
here because I have a surprise — no, two surprises for 
you. 

Georgiana. Oh, I bet he's sent it ! 

(Molly coughs loudly to cover this break, and the 
others exclaim excitedly.) 

Sue {quickly). Two? 

Mrs. Harrison {who has been rooting in her bag 
and has brought forth a letter and a newspaper). 
First, another letter from our godson. 

All. Oh, do read it ! 

Mrs. Harrison {rummaging for her glasses). It's 



24 



BEHIND THE LINES 



very brief, but so delightful. I regret to say that my 
daughter has carelessly mislaid the envelope. (Reads. ) 
11 Dear Ladies : I can with difficulty express to you my 
gratitude for your very kind letter and altogether de- 
lightful box. We are doing a lot of work here, I am 
not allowed to say just what, but it is most interest- 
ing. The place where we are billeted, I must not say 
where it is, is not at all bad, and our neighbors (deleted 
by the censor) are bully good chaps. Last week, 
dates not allowed, we made a raid on, I mustn't give 
any names, but we captured (also deleted by the cen- 
sor) Boches. Am mailing you a photograph of a 
bunch of us in our trench. Best wishes from your 
affectionate Godson." 

Mrs. Merrifield. How charming! So full of 
personality ! 

Petty. But I didn't know that airmen lived in 
trenches. 

Sue. Didn't you? Don't you ever read the news- 
papers ? 

Mrs. Oliver. Where's the photograph he speaks 
of? 

Mrs. Harrison. It hasn't arrived. Now for the 
other surprise ! 

(She unrolls the newspaper; Sue watches her des- 
perately.) 

Molly (to Julia, indignantly). I think it's crim- 
inally careless of the censor to let them send photo- 
graphs ! 

(Mrs. Harrison adjusts her glasses and opens her 
month to read when Jessie enters r. with the pack- 
age which Georgian a brought in on a former 
entrance and forgot to deliver.) 

Jessie. For Mrs. Harrison. It come by registered 
mail this morning, and the clerk told that kid (points 
to Georgiana) to bring it in here, but she dropped it 
in the hall. 

Mrs. Harrison. For me? Ah, the photograph! 



BEHIND THE LINES 25 

{She is about to take it when Sue rushes to her and 

seizes it.) 

Sue. No, it's some mistake — it's for me, I'm quite 
sure. 

Jessie {eagerly) . No, ma'am, it's {She catches 

Sue's eye and pauses. ) At least I thought 

Mrs. Harrison {groping for her glasses, which in 
the excitement have slipped off her nose). How can 
it be for you, my dear, and be addressed to me ? 

Molly. Oh, the post-office is so overworked these 
days that 

Sue. It's Miss Harrison, of course. 

Jessie {quite bewildered). Well, maybe I did look 
at it wrong. 

Mrs. Harrison {who has succeeded in getting her 
glasses on). Well, we'll see. Give it to me. 

Sue {up l., clutching package to her heart). But, 
Mother, dear 

Mrs. Harrison {severely). Give it to me at once, 
Susan. There is something very strange about all 
this. 

{Everybody much interested. Mrs. Harrison takes 

package. ) 

Molly {in a hollow aside). Strange J 
Mrs. Harrison {reading). Mrs. David B. Har- 
rison, as plain as day. That will do, Jessie. 
Jessie {awed). Yes, ma'am. 

{She goes r., but lingers in the doorway.) 

Mrs. Harrison {opening package slowly). It is 
the photograph. How thoughtful of the lieutenant! 
For mercy's sake! 

All. Well? 

(Molly, up l., Sue, up l. c, and Julia, r. c, eye each 
other in terror.) 

Mrs. Harrison {coming down c). It isn't 

Mrs. Oliver. Isn't what? 



26 BEHIND THE LINES 

Mrs. Harrison. It may be my eyes, but it certainly 
does not appear to be a group of airmen in a trench. 

(Mrs. Merrifield, Mrs. Fairfax, Petty, Julia, 
Sue, Molly, Jessie gather around her to look. 
Mrs. Oliver continues to wind the wool held by 
Georgian a. ) 

Mrs. Merrifield. I didn't know they had grand 
pianos in the trenches ! 

Petty. How old they look ! 

Mrs. Fairfax. They seem to be knitting! 

Jessie. They's writing on the other side. 

Mrs. Harrison {turning it over). Why, so there 
is. {Reads.) "To the members of Berkeley 
Woman's Club with the compliments of the Red Cross 
Unit of the Old Gentlemen's Home ! " 

Molly. ) 

Sue. V Oh! 

Julia. ) 

(Jessie goes up r. Mrs. Fairfax goes to table R, 
Molly and Sue to table l. Julia to table R.) 

Petty {going back to table R.). Well, I didn't 
think they wore long white beards in the aviation. 

Mrs. Harrison. And now, Susy, if you will kindly 
explain why you wanted this package 

Julia. Oh, I thought you held another surprise 
for us ! 

All. Oh, yes! 

Mrs. Harrison {taking a chair from table l., seats 
herself c. and opens newspaper again). I have. 
What do you think of this? {Reads.) " New York 
welcomes to-day the celebrated Ace, Lieutenant 
Thomas French " 

Georgian a. O-o-ker-choo ! 

{She sneezes frantically, tangles the wool in one mad 
paroxysm, and bolts out of the room, r. Jessie 
follozvs her.) 



BEHIND THE LINES 



27 



Mrs. Oliver (wildly). Stop! How dare you 
wind yourself up in my wool and then run? 

Molly (going c. and speaking excitedly to Mrs. 
Harrison). Oh, do go on! 

Mrs. Harrison. I am endeavoring to. (Reads.) 
" Lieutenant Thomas French, of Boston, who landed 
this morning at an Atlantic port and will be in the 
city this afternoon. It is believed that the hero is 
home on a secret mission of importance." Now, 
ladies, what do you think of that? 

(She drops paper; Molly seizes it and fairly devours 
it. Sue drops into a chair up l. Julia rushes 
across to her and fans her.) 

Petty. How glorious! 

Mrs. Oliver (rising, down l.). Well, I think he 
might have waited till I got my yarn wound. 

Mrs. Merrifield (down r.). A secret mission! 
How fascinating! 

Sue. Do — do you suppose he'll come here ? 

Mrs. Harrison (c). We could hardly hope for 
that. He will probably go directly to Boston to see 
his dear mother. 

Sue (up l., relieved). Of course. I never thought 
of that. 

Mrs. Harrison. But I have a splendid idea. 

All. What? 

Mrs. Harrison. Why couldn't two of us go to 
New York this afternoon and greet him before he 
leaves? 

Molly. J Lovel y ! We>11 adore g° in g ! 

(They come down l.) 

Mrs. Harrison. Not at all. This is not an occa- 
sion for the younger members. I, as chairman, and 
Mrs. Merrifield, as vice-chairman, will go. The 
young man will prefer it, I am sure. 

(She goes to tabic L. and commences to arrange her 

veil, etc.) 



28 BEHIND THE LINES 

Julia (aside). Oh, undoubtedly; any young man 
would ! 

Mrs. Merrifield. It is the motherly touch of sym- 
pathy that the dear boys love ! Though most of them 
tell me that I seem more like an elder sister. 

Mrs. Oliver (going c. and picking up the paper). 
Well, you're old enough to lend dignity to the ex- 
pedition, and that's what we want. Does it say where 
he's stopping? 

(They all look over her shoulder as she reads, except 
Molly and Sue, who are down l.) 

Sue (to Molly). If Mother meets that man and 
he tells her he's never received those letters and pack- 
ages 

Molly. He shan't ! 

Sue. He will. You can't prevent him, and Julia's 
failed us completely. 

Molly (with determination). I shall prevent him. 
Listen; my car's outside; you slip up-stairs and get a 
hat and cloak, and in a quarter of an hour we'll be off 
for New York! When I'm through with Lieutenant 
French he'll know what to say to your mother ! 

Sue. I'll do it. 

Molly. Meet me at the car in fifteen minutes. 

(Exit Sue quietly at l. while the others are reading.) 

Petty (r. c, enthusiastically). Oh, isn't he too 
wonderfully dear! I wish Sam had gone in for Air. 

Mrs. Oliver (l. a). Nonsense. That young 
man will be simply unbearable when those New 
Yorkers get through with him! 

Julia. Oh, no, he won't. Some nice girl will see 
to it that he isn't. The old ladies may spoil 'em, but 
the young ones are still on the job. (Comes down r.) 

Mrs. Merrifield. I must say, Julia, that some of 
your ideas strike me as distinctly unpatriotic — not to 
say pro-German. 

Mrs. Harrison. Now, no bickering on this 
auspicious day. And, Cordelia, you had better be 



BEHIND THE LINES 29 

getting ready if you intend to catch the one-thirty 
with 

Molly {appalled). The one-thirty! You're not 
going without your luncheon, surely? 

Mrs. Harrison. We'll have to. The four o'clock 
train is the next one, and that might be too late. 

Mrs. Merrifield. But, my dear Lucy, I don't 
think it's sensible to go without one's luncheon. I 
have such a delicate stomach. 

(Molly crosses r. to Julia.) 

Molly (savagely, to Julia). They mustn't take 
that train! 

Julia. Well, how are you going to stop them ? 

(Molly crosses l. and pretends to work. Mrs. 
Oliver relinquishes the paper to Mrs. Fairfax, 
who sits at table l.) 

Mrs. Oliver (r. c). You pamper yourself, Cor- 
delia. With your physique, you could live on your 
tissues for hours and hours without suffering. 

Mrs. Merrifield (r. c). If you are going to be 
vulgar, Sarah, I don't care to listen to you. You just 
try living on your tissues once and see how sustaining 
they are! 

(Enter Jessie, r., dragging the unwilling Georgian a 

with her.) 

Jessie. Here she is, Mrs. Oliver; I caught her 
sneaking out the back way. 

Mrs. Oliver (crossing to chair down l., where her 
yarn is). Come here. 

Georgiana (yielding in desperation). My Gawd! 
Ain't you never goin' to git through windin' that stuff? 

(She comes down l. and sits.) 

Mrs. Merrifield. I always knew that child came 
from the slums. She ought to be disinfected before 
she touches that wool. 



3<> 



BEHIND THE LINES 



(Mrs. Oliver, seated down l., commences to wind,) 

Mrs. Oliver. I'll disinfect her with a little good 
hard work. 

Mrs. Harrison (who has got her veil adjusted, her 
glasses put away, and her bag arranged). Well, 
Cordelia, are you coming? 

Mrs. Merrifield (taking off her cap and apron). 
I won't be a minute. (She starts l.) 

Molly (at window — aside). Oh, dear, what can 
Susy be doing? 

Mrs. Fairfax (zvildly, with paper in hand). Oh, 
how very terrible ! 

All. What ! 

Mrs. Fairfax (rising and coming down R.). It 
says here that Jack Spalding, of Berkeley, is miss- 
ing 

All. Missing ! 

(Mrs. Merrifield pauses up l.) 

Mrs. Fairfax. Missing, and believed to be in the 
hands of the enemy! 

(Julia takes paper.) 

Mrs. Harrison (dropping into a chair l.). Oh! 
In the hands of the enemy ! Oh, the poor, poor boy ! 
Where is Susy? 

Molly (frightened). Up-stairs. Oh, don't tell 
her until we're sure ! 

Julia. I'm afraid it's sure enough. It says here 
that through some error his name had been confused 
with another, and it has just been straightened out. 
It happened a month ago in a night raid. 

Mrs. Harrison (dazed). In the hands of the 
enemy ! Why, it doesn't seem more than a month ago 
that he was coming to see my Susy! I — I — he — he 
was a very — good young fellow — he 

(She breaks down and cries on Molly's shoulder. 
All through this scene the sincerity of the women's 
feelings must be shown in contrast to their previous 



BEHIND THE LINES 3I 

indifference, and the artificial character of their 
devotion to Lieutenant French.) 

Julia. It says here that he was trying to bring off 
a wounded comrade when it happened. 

(Mrs. Merrifield comes down l. c.) 

Mrs. Oliver. He would — he was just that kind of 
boy! Many's the time I've warned him about being 
so reckless. I can see him now hanging by the seat 
of his trousers to a picket in my fence ! 

{She bursts into tears.) 

Georgiana (follozving suit with a howl). Boo 
hoo! 

Mrs. Merrifield (l. c, wiping her eyes with a 
bandage). It was so like him to stick by his comrade ! 

Mrs. Fairfax (r.). That's the kind of men we 
raise over here ! 

Mrs. Merrifield (weeping). Well, you needn't 
snap at me, Frances; I guess I'm just as fond of them 
as you are ! 

Jessie (up r.). Didn't none of you know him like 
I did! He got my Jim a job and told him if he got 
fired he'd lick him ! He was a grand boy ! 

Georgiana (down l.). An' onct he took off his 
hat to me in the street, he did ! 

Mrs. Harrison (coming to c). Why do you all 
keep on talking as though the poor boy was dead? 
He's only a prisoner, and you can do things for pris- 
oners. We can send him food and money and 
letters 

Mrs. Merrifield. But will he get them? 

(She comes down to Mrs. Oliver, extreme l.) 

Mrs. Oliver. Good gracious, Cordelia, let's send 
'em before we begin worrying about that. I move that 
we form another committee and 

Mrs. Harrison. Oh, bother committees! Let's 
get to work! I'm going to get our boy out of prison 



31 feEHlttD THE LltfES 

if I have to go over and poison Von Hindenburg my- 
self! 

All. Hurrah ! 

Mrs. Merrifield (her hands over her ears). Then 
you don't want to go to the city before luncheon? 

Mrs. Harrison. Don't talk to me about the city; 
I'm thinking! 

Molly. Oh, Aunt Lucy, you're a darling, and 

Georgian a. Hist ! ( Molly looks startled. ) Why 
don't you tell her ? 

Molly. Oh, Aunt Lucy, I must tell you that you 
haven't treated poor Jack as badly as you meant to. 
You see, Sue and I 

Mrs. Harrison. Well? 

Julia. Yes, you see they 

Georgiana. Aw, gwan! They mixed the babies, 
that's all. 

Mrs. Harrison. What! 

Molly (desperately). We — we sent the letters 
and packages to Jack instead of to Tom — I mean, 
Lieutenant French. 

All (in unison). What? You did! Wonderful! 
How dared you ? You young scamps ! 

Mrs. Harrison. Mary Tracy, do you mean to tell 
me that 

(The 'phone up r. rings. Jessie answers.) 

Jessie. Hello? Yes. Hold the wire. (Putting 
down receiver.) New York to speak to Miss Tracy. 

Molly (going up r. to 'phone). Hello? Yes. 

(To Mrs. Harrison.) We — we thought (Into 

'phone.) Hello! Oh, oh, my darling boy! (Ex- 
treme astonishment among the others, especially 
Georgiana.) Of course I'm wild to see you! Why 
didn't you tell me (She listens.) 

Mrs. Oliver (in a husky whisper). What in the 
name of common sense 

Georgiana (excitedly). Aw, cut it out, can't you? 

Molly (into 'phone). Can I come? Of course I 
can; the car's at the door. Where are you, dearest? 



BEHIND THE LINES 33 

(Enter Sue, in hat and coat, stands in doorway, l. 
Molly, into 'phone.) Oh, how wonderful, darling! 
I am so glad and happy! Yes, this very minute! 
Good-bye. (Rings off, sees Sue.) Oh, Susy, your 
Jack has escaped from a German prison: — he knocked 
the guards' heads together and smashed them some- 
how — and he got to a boat and he's in New York now 
with my Tom ! 

All. What! 

Sue (grasping a chair faintly). Escaped from a 
German prison ! 

Molly (seising Sue and drawing her down l. c). 
Oh, you poor lamb, I forgot you didn't know ! Read 
this paper — no, you haven't time — we must start for 
New York right away. You'll let her go, won't you, 
Aunt Lucy? 

Mrs. Harrison. You two, alone, unchaperoned, in 
New York ? Never. But I'll go with you ! 

Molly. Oh, I forgot. I can chaperon her. You 
see, Tom and I were married just before he sailed last 
fall and 

Sue. Molly ! 

Julia (r. c). You little villain! 

Mrs. Oliver. If it isn't asking too much, who 
might Tom be ? 

Molly. Oh, of course, I forgot— why, Tom is 
Lieutenant French, our was-to-be godson ! 

(Amazement on the part of all the others.) 

Georgiana (down l.). Gosh, I wisht I was a 
aviatoress ! 

(Jessie comes down extreme r.) 

Sue (down l. c). No wonder you were writing 
to him ! 

Molly (down l. c, quickly). Yes, but I didn't 
break my word. I didn't tell him a thing about 

Sue (horrified). Oh, Mother, we must tell you— the 
godson 

Mrs, Harrison (at c, putting her wraps on lutr- 



34 BEHIND THE LINES 

riedly). Don't tell me anything more, please! I'm 
not interested in godsons! I want to see my son-in- 
law elect, who has just escaped from a German prison. 

Sue {hugging her on one side). Mother! 

Molly {hugging her on the other). Aunty! 

Julia. Girls, here's one case where the Ace and 
Jack both take tricks ! Hurrah for both our boys ! 

Mrs. Harrison {quickly). No, Julia, hurrah for 
all our boys, on land and sea, in camp and in prison, in 
sickness, in health, in discouragement, in victory — 
may they all come back as these two have to the 
women who watch for them ! 

Julia {partly to the women, partly to the audi- 
ence). Hip, hip, hurrah ! 

{All join enthusiastically.) 

PICTURE 

Mrs. Harrison 

Sue Molly 

Julia Georgiana 

Mrs. Fairfax Mrs. Oliver 

Jessie Mrs. Merrifield 



curtain 



Unusually Good Entertainments 

Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

GRADUATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in Two Acts, by Ward Macauley. For fix 
males and four females, with several minor parts. Time of 
playing, two hours. Modern costumes. Simple interior scenes; 
'.may be presented in a hall without scenery. The unusual com-'' 
Sanation of a real "entertainment," including music, recitations^ 
jetc, with an interesting love story. The graduation exercises' 
iinclude short speeches, recitations, songs, funny interruptions, 
*and a comical speech by a country school trustee. Price, 15 
cents. 

EXAMINATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in One Act, by Ward Macauley. Eight mal« 
and six female characters, with minor parts. Plays one hour. 
Scene, an easy interior, or may be given without scenery. Cos- 
tumes, modern. Miss Marks, the teacher, refuses to marry a 
trustee, who threatens to discharge her. The examination in- 
cludes recitations and songs, and brings out many funny answers 
to questions. At the close Robert Coleman, an old lover, claims 
the teacher. Very easy and very effective. Price, 15 cents. 

BACK TO THE COUNTRY STORE. A Rural Enter- 
tainment in Three Acts, by Ward Macauley. For four male 
and five female characters, with some supers. Time, two hours. 
Two scenes, both easy interiors. Can be played effectively with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. All the principal parts are 
sure hits. Quigley Higginbotham, known as "Quig," a clerk in 
a country store, aspires to be a great author or singer and 
decides to try his fortunes in New York. The last scene is in 
Quig's home. He returns a failure but is offered a partnership 
in the country store. He pops the question in the midst of a 
surprise party given in his honor. Easy to do and very funny. 
Price, 15 cents. 

THE DISTRICT CONVENTION. A Farcical Sketch 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For eleven males and one 
female, or twelve males. Any number of other parts or super- 
numeraries may be added. Plays forty-five minutes. No special J 
scenery is required, and the costumes and properties are all/ 
easy. The play shows an uproarious political nominating con- 
vention. The climax comes when a woman's rights cham- 
pion, captures the convention. There is a great chance to bur- 
lesque modern politics and to work in local gags. Every 
part will make a hit. Price, 15 cents. 

SI SLOCUMS COUNTRY STORE. An Entertainment; 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eleven male and five female 
•characters with supernumeraries. Several parts may be doubled. 
Plays one hour. Interior scene, or may be played without set 
scenery. Costumes, modern. The rehearsal for an entertain- 
ment in the village church gives plenty of opportunity for 
specialty work. A very jolly entertainment of the sort adapted 
to almost any place or occasion. Price, 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



s* 



Unusually Good Entertainments 

Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

A SURPRISE PARTY AT BRINKLEY'S. An En- 
tertainment in One Scene, by Ward Macauley. Seven male and 
seven female characters. Interior scene, or may be given with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. Time, one hour. By the 
author of the popular successes, "Graduation Day at Wood Hill 
School," "Back to the Country Store," etc. The villagers have 
^planned a birthday surprise party for Mary Brinkley, recently 
'graduated from college. They all join in jolly games, songs, 
conundrums, etc., and Mary becomes engaged, which surprises 
the surprisers. The entertainment is a sure success. Price, 15 cents, 

JONES VS. JINKS. A Mock Trial in One Act, by 
Edward Mumford. Fifteen male and six female characters, with 
supernumeraries if desired. May be played all male. Many of the 
parts (members of the jury, etc.) are small. Scene, a simple 
interior ; may be played without scenery. Costumes, modern. 
Time of playing, one hour. This mock trial has many novel 
features, unusual characters and quick action. Nearly every 
character has a funny entrance and laughable lines. There are 
many rich parts, and fast fun throughout. Price, 15 cents. 

THE SIGHT-SEEING CAR. A Comedy Sketch in One 
Act, by Ernest M. Gould. For seven males, two females, or 
may be all male. Parts may be doubled, with quick changes, so 
that four persons may play the sketch. Time, forty-five minutes. 
Simple street scene. Costumes, modern. The superintendent 
of a sight-seeing automobile engages two men to run the 
machine. A Jew, a farmer, a fat lady and other humorous 
characters give them all kinds of trouble. This is a regular gat- 
ling-gun stream of rollicking repartee. Price, 15 cents. 

THE CASE OF SMYTHE VS. SMITH. An Original 
Mock Trial in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eighteen males 
and two females, or may be all male. Plays about one hour. 
Scene, a county courtroom ; requires no scenery ; may be played 
in an ordinary hall. Costumes, modern. This entertainment is 
nearly perfect of its kind, and a sure success. It can be easily 
produced in any place or on any occasion, and provides almost 
any number of good parts. Price, 15 cents. 

THE OLD MAIDS' ASSOCIATION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment in One Act, by Louise Latham Wilson. For thirteen 
females and one male. The male part may be played by a 
female, and the number of characters increased to twenty or 
more. Time, forty* minutes. The play requires neither scenery 
nor properties, and very little in the way of costumes. Canjj 
easily be prepared in one or two rehearsals. Price, 25 cents. 

BARGAIN DAY AT BLOOMSTEIN'S. A Farcical 
Entertainment in One Act, by Edward Mumford. For five males 
and ten females, with supers. Interior scene. Costumes, mod- 
ern. Time, thirty minutes. The characters and the situations 
which arise from their endeavors to buy and sell make rapid-fire 
fun from start to finish. Price, 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



Successful Plays for All Girls 

In Selecting Your Next Play Do Not Overlook This List 

YOUNG DOCTOR DEVINE. A Farce in Two Acts, 
by Mrs. E. J. H. Goodfellow. One of the most popular 
plays for girls. For nine female characters. Time in 
playing, thirty minutes. Scenery, ordinary interior. Mod- 
ern costumes. Girls in a boarding-school, learning that a 
young doctor is coming to vaccinate all the pupils, eagerly con- 
sult each other as to the manner of fascinating the physician. 
When the doctor appears upon the scene the pupils discover that 
the physician is a female practitioner. Price, 15 cents. 

SISTER MASONS. A Burlesque in One Act, by Frank 
Dumont. For eleven females. Time, thirty minutes. Costumes, 
fantastic gowns, or dominoes. Scene, interior. A grand expose 
of Masonry. Some women profess to learn the secrets of a 
Masonic lodge by hearing their husbands talk in their sleep, 
and they institute a similar organization. Price, 15 cents. 

A COMMANDING POSITION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment, by Amelia Sanford. For seven female char- 
acters and ten or more other ladies and children. Time, one 
hour. Costumes, modern. Scenes, easy interiors and one street 
scene. Marian Young gets tired living with her aunt, Miss 
Skinflint. She decides to "attain a commanding position.'' 
Marian tries hospital nursing, college settlement work and 
school teaching, but decides to go back to housework. Price, 15 
cents. 

HOW A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET. A Comedy 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For ten female characters. 
Time, half an hour. Scene, an easy interior. Costumes, modern. 
Mabel Sweetly has just become engaged to Harold, but it's "the 
deepest kind of a secret." Before announcing it they must win 
the approval of Harold's uncle, now in Europe, or lose a possible 
ten thousand a year. At a tea Mabel meets her dearest friend. 
Maude sees Mabel has a secret, she coaxes and Mabel tells her. 
But Maude lets out the secret in a few minutes to another 
friend and so the secret travels. Price, 15 cents. 

THE OXFORD AFFAIR. A Comedy in Three Acts, 
by Josephine H. Cobb and Jennie E. Paine. For eight female 
characters. Plays one hour and three-quarters. Scenes, inter- 
iors at a seaside hotel. Costumes, modern. The action of the 
play is located at a summer resort. Alice Graham, in order to 
chaperon herself, poses as a widow, and Miss Oxford first claims 
her as a sister-in-law, then denounces her. The onerous duties 
of Miss Oxford, who attempts to serve as chaperon to Miss 
Howe and Miss Ashton in the face of many obstacles, furnish 
an evening of rare enjoyment. Price 15 cents. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 




The Power of Ex 



Expression and efficiency go hand in hand. 

The power of clear and forceful expression brings confi- 
dence and poise at all times — in private gatherings, in public 
discussion, in society, in business. 

It is an invaluable asset to any man or woman. It can often 
be turned into money, but it is always a real joy. 

In learning to express thought, we learn to command 
thought itself, and thought is power. You can have this 
power if you will. 

Whoever has the power of clear expression is always sure 
of himself. 

The power of expression leads to: 

The ability to think "on your feet" 

Successful public speaking 

Effective recitals 

The mastery over other minds 

Social prominence 

Business success 

Efficiency in any undertaking 

Are these things worth while? 

They are all successfully taught at The National School of 
Elocution and Oratory, which during many years has de- 
veloped this power in hundreds of men and women. 

A catalogue giving full information as to how any of these 
accomplishments may be attained will be sent free on request, 

THE NATIONAL SCHOOL OF 
ELOCUTION AND ORATORY 

1714 De Lancey Street Philadelphia 



